Unnamed for now
by themusicain
Summary: Alan's finally got round to it! Of course, a shopping trip is required. How dangerous can it be? ON MAJOR HIATUS
1. Prologue

**-gasps- a new story!**

**so, set about a year after my previous story (Match Made in a Fictional Place). i'm seriously not having any inspirational titles coming to me, hence the unfortunate temporary title. obviously you'll need to read a bit more before suggesting anything, so i'll strike a deal: i give you the story under the temporary title, and, when it's done, you all suggest a title if i haven't come up with one by then. fair?**

Prologue

A young couple sat together happily on the beach, watching the moon track its way across the stars. The gentle sounds of the waves lapping against the sand mingled with the night-time sounds from the jungle behind them.

Alan looked down at Tin-Tin, who was half-leaning on him. Her face glowed in the moonlight, contrasting with her dark hair. He felt the same as he always did; that she was some sort of mythical being, and, if he wasn't careful, he'd lose her. But he'd decided enough was enough, and to take action. He pushed her off his arm slightly, and turned her round to face him.

"Tin-Tin, I've got something to ask you," he said, reaching surreptitiously into his pocket.

"What is it, Alan?" she asked softly, her eyes seeming to glow. Alan gazed into them, content just to look at her for a moment. Mentally, he shook himself, as she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Tin-Tin, I think you might already know what I'm gonna say, and God knows it's been long enough, but I honestly just couldn't help it and-" Tin-Tin silenced him with a hand over his mouth.

"Alan, you're rambling," she chuckled.

"Sorry." Alan took a deep breath and tried again.

"Tin-Tin, I've wanted to ask you this for so long, and now, finally, I've gotten on with it." He produced the small box he'd been hiding and opened it. Tin-Tin's eyes widened as she took in the simple ring, with a heart made out of twisted metal on top.

"Tin-Tin Kyrano, will you marry me?"

TB

Up on a balcony overlooking the beach, another young couple heard Tin-Tin's squeal of delight.

"I think she accepted," said Maria, smiling.

"How did you know he was going to ask her?" asked John, kissing her cheek.

"Call it a woman's instinct," replied his wife with a crafty smile. John wrapped his arms around her, patting the bump.

"Either that or you've been eavesdropping," he muttered playfully.

"Me?" Maria opened her eyes wide innocently. "And when have I ever eavesdropped?"

"Oh, how about the time I was discussing your Christmas present with Dad?"

"That was an accident!" retorted Maria, though her eyes danced mischievously. "Besides, I still appreciated it, didn't I?"

John kissed her. "Yes you did." He looked back at his baby brother and his now fiancée and sighed.

"Back to Thunderbird Five tomorrow." Maria looked up at him, a little amused.

"The baby won't come while you're away, I promise. There's still a couple of months to go. Besides," she went on, smirking a little, "I'd much rather have you there flapping around like a headless chicken instead of your father."

"Mt father _never_ flapped around like a headless chicken," said John, pretending to be affronted. "Well... not after Virgil was born..."

Maria's laughter floated over the tops of the trees and mingled with the night animals.


	2. Chapter 1

Ch. 1

Alan and Tin-Tin's announcement at breakfast the next morning was met with cheers and not a few _About time!_s. Grandma had hugged the pair, Gordon had clapped Alan hard on the back, and Kyrano had looked extremely pleased and a little relieved. Catrìona and Brains had also offered their congratulations. Later, the four women sat in the lounge, drinking coffee.

Maria was feeling a little down. John had taken off to do his turn on Thunderbird Five, and despite her assurances that it was too early for the baby yet, she couldn't help feeling a little anxious. Grandma, seeing this, had organised coffee and a chat in the lounge. Virgil had disappeared into his bedroom, clearly a little overwhelmed by the sudden convergence of women on his practice time.

"You do know, Tin-Tin," said Catrìona, sipping from her mug, "now that you're officially engaged, we're going to have to address a few very important issues." Tin-Tin regarded her warily.

"Like what?"

"Like choosing your dress, of course!" exclaimed the Scottish woman with a grin. "It's a very important decision. Look how long Maria took to pick hers!"

"I'll have you know I knew exactly what I wanted. It was just finding it," said Maria, chuckling. "White, off-the-shoulder, lots of little embroidered and beaded detail, relatively modest skirt-"

"_With a huge train_," completed Grandma. "The fiasco we had finding that perfect dress."

"Exactly," said Catrìona. "Which is why we have to get this dress issue addressed as quickly as possible. Did you have any particular idea as to what you wanted?" Tin-Tin shrugged. Maria looked at her witheringly.

"Oh, come one," she said. "Everyone dreams up their ideal wedding at some point. Spill the beans, go on."

"Well, I always wanted some Malaysian influence in what I wore, but not too traditional. I've never really been into the whole white dress idea, either."

Grandma leaned back in her chair thoughtfully. "What we need," she decided slowly, "is a shopping trip." The women's faces lit up at this.

"So where will we go?" asked Catrìona. "London? Paris? New York? Milan?"

"I think if it's Malaysian Tin-Tin wants, we should get as close to authentic as possible," said Maria.

"But not too traditional," Tin-Tin reminded them anxiously. "I would like to go to Malaysia, though. I haven't been there in a while." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Kuala Lumpur is usually the place to go for fashion. I think Penny might have done a couple of fashion shows there in the past, too."

"It sounds like a plan, certainly," said Maria. "Now to convince the men."

TB

John pressed the buttons required to open the airlock, then turned round to wish his brother farewell. Virgil smiled.

"See you," he said, clapping him on the shoulder. "And _don't worry_," he added with a smirk. "I promise we won't let her have the baby without you. And Dad says you can have the next two months off." John smiled nervously.

"I just have this funny feeling, is all," he replied, shaking his head. He shrugged and walked through into Thunderbird Five.

"Hey, John," said Scott, rising from the desk chair. "How're Maria and the sproglet?"

"Maria and the _baby_ are doing fine, thanks," said John, going to the bedroom to dump his stuff. "Anything I should know before you go?"

"Just keep an eye on the Australian outback. The temperatures are looking pretty high, and they've had a very dry summer. And England's pretty damp, but I don't think there'll be any problems."

"Nothing else?"

"Apart from the usual minor seismic activity in the usual parts of the world, no. I checked some of the reports, and experts don't think there should be anything to worry about." John nodded, settling into his chair and making a note. "Anything I should know before I go?" continued Scott, leaning against the console.

"You have to make sure Maria doesn't give birth while I'm up here," said John dryly, but his eyes showed the real worry. Scott threw an arm around his shoulders.

"John, you've got to stop worrying. Maria will have taken every precaution imaginable to make sure there won't be any complications, Brains is qualified to assist if she decides to give birth early, we have sufficient facilities on the island, and we are only three quarters of an hour's flight from the mainland. It. Will. Be. Fine."

"I know," sighed John, turning to the screens. Satisfied, Scott straightened up and made to go. As he stepped into the airlock, John called his name. Turning back, Scott saw a half smile on John's face.

"Keep your eyes peeled. Gordon received a parcel this morning."

"And?"

"It was from his usual supplier."

"Ah." Scott grimaced. "Thanks for the heads up." John gave him a mock salute and closed the airlock.

TB

In his bedroom, Gordon slit open the selotape and lifted the flaps of the box excitedly.

"Yes, yes, yes!" he crowed, surveying his purchase. He extracted it from the protective foam, examining the brightly coloured display box. "Oh, this is going to be good!" he whispered to himself excitedly. "So, so good!" He scrambled to his feet and ran to his wardrobe, stuffing the box inside.


	3. Chapter 2

**sorry for the lateness of this chapter! i honestly thought i'd posted it! it's been in my document folder for a while, but i seriously thought i'd already posted it! i was wondering why i wasn't getting any feedback...**

**i only realised when i started writing chapter 3, and looked back to double check something here. onyl to find it wasn't there! ah wells, accept it as a new year present :P**

Ch. 2

Anthony Reed kept his distance, but he still made sure he was close enough not to lose them. He followed them through the busy streets. Interestingly, it was their _lack_ of bright coloured clothing that made them easy to spot amongst the heaving rainbow of carnival-goers. He raised his wrist as he jogged behind them, for all the world looking like a long-sighted man peering at his watch.

"Reed to Mitchell."

"_Mitchell here. How's it going, Tony?_"

"I've found them, and I'm following them along the main street right now. Have you called the boss-man?"

"_I did call Scott, but it looked like they were just about to have a change-over on the satellite. He said he'd get John to call me back._"

"And when was that?" asked Anthony, pretty sure he knew that answer.

"_Er... a... while ago..._" Anthony resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was weird enough he was muttering to his watch.

"Well, call them again. Scott's probably forgotten to say in the excitement of seeing his brother again after a month apart."

"_F.A.B._" Anthony heard his communicator click as Mitchell disconnected, and lowered his wrist. His quarry had turned a corner. He sped up a little to catch up with them.

There was no one there.

A long alley with smooth walls, no hiding places and no doors or ladders. Definitely no way to get out. Anthony kicked one of those maddeningly smooth walls in frustration. He'd been so close!

Anthony was one of International Rescue's agents, along with Joe Mitchell, his cousin. The pair was based in Malaysia's capital, where they'd moved ten years ago to start a business. They first met Jeff Tracy when they had dealings with his company. Jeff had been impressed with their level heads and good communication skills, and had asked them to become agents for his rescue business. Anthony smiled as he remembered his and Joe's reaction at the time.

Anthony had been sitting outside a café, enjoying the carnival, when he'd spotted a man and a woman, both dressed completely in black. He'd recognised them from the files he'd been sent from Jeff. Both were wanted, among other things, for kidnapping a scientist by the name of Harold Meyer. Of course, at the time, they had thought Meyer was called Hiram Hackenbacker, Brains' false identity, but everyone was pretty sure they would have found out by now. Feeling partially responsible, Brains had insisted that they kept up the search. John had also apparently felt a sense of guilt, though Anthony wasn't sure why. So now Anthony was following the pair. That is, he _had_ been following them.

Anthony walked slowly up and down the alley. It was too long for them to have disappeared round the corner before he reached it, but there was nowhere they could have gone. He examined the walls, looking for signs of a hidden entrance or something, at the same time calling the satellite.

"Reed to International Rescue, come in, please."

"_This is Thunderbird Five, receiving your call. What's up, Anthony?_"

"Hi, John. Did Joe tell you about the suspects?"

"_He did, yes._"

"I've lost them." There was a pause, and Anthony could hear keys clacking as John tapped on the console about Five.

"_Okay, I've locked on to your position. Which direction are you facing?_" Anthony rifled in his pocket for his compass.

"Roughly north-west. I'm facing one of the walls of the alley." He heard more clacking of keys.

"_Okay... the building's a disused taxi-office, and there are four people inside._"

"And on the other side?"

"_That's a school, but it's empty._"

"They're probably enjoying the carnival. Any sign of an entrance on the north-west wall?"

"_Hang on a sec, I'll x-ray it_." More keys being tapped. "_It'll take a couple of minutes, I'm afraid. So, how've you been?_"

"Alright. Business is booming nicely, Joe's finally got rid of that cow of a girlfriend of his, it's my sister's twenty-first in two weeks and I'm going over to see her... that's it, really. How're things with you? Is Maria ok?"

"_She's fine. No complications, nothing. And I'm getting a few months' leave after this shift._"

"Any ideas on what it'll be?"

"_No, we decided to go for surprise. Brains did offer to do a scan, but we said no. We've decided if it's a girl we'll name her after my mother, and if it's a boy we'll name it after Maria's brother, Bernardo_."

"Interesting name choice."

"_Maria insisted._"

"I'll bet she did. Anything else happening with you?"

"_Alan and Tin-Tin are finally engaged, so we've got a wedding to plan. In fact, the women are all jetting over to your neck of the woods for some serious shopping tomorrow._"

"I hope you didn't let Maria take your card."

"_I don't have any choice in the matter,_" chuckled John.

"And any sign of Brains popping the question yet?"

"_None,_" replied John, sounding amused. "_To be honest, I'm not entirely convinced he will. Oh, they're very much in love, but they're just not of the lovely-dovey sort that me and Alan- Hang, on, the x-ray's finished_." Anthony focussed his mind back on the task at hand.

"_Okay..._" John said, tapping away at his keyboard. "_Take... two steps to your left_." Anthony did so. The wall looked the same as any other part of the wall. "_You're facing the hidden entrance now_."

"Too right, it's a hidden entrance. I've got no way of even being able to open it. I'll bet it's opened by remote control or something." He looked up, suddenly worried that there might have been a CCTV camera, watching his every move. He was relieved to see none. But that didn't help him get in. "John, I'm not gonna be able to get in here right now, I'll have to come back later. I'm going to but a tracker on this part, okay?"

"_F.A.B._" A click told Anthony that John had disconnected.

He rummaged in his pocket for a small, clear, stick-on transmitter, courtesy of Brains. He ripped open the protective packaging, peeled off the backing plastic, and stuck it to the wall in front of him. He pressed a button on his watch, and a small red dot pulsed on its face, right beside the centre. Satisfied, Anthony turned and left, resolving to return that night.

TB

"Clothes... toiletries... shoes... book... phone... sunglasses... sun cream... credit card..."

"Kitchen sink?"

Tin-Tin straightened up and turned. Alan was leaning in the doorway of her bedroom, his arms folded, with the goofiest smile ever on his face. Tin-Tin shook her head, trying not to laugh.

"Nah, I was just going to buy the kitchen sink when I got there," she said, crossing the room and hugging him. He hugged her back, planting a kiss on her hair. He turned her around she was facing her bed again with his arms round her middle. She looked up at him.

"Are you going to find plenty to keep yourself occupied while I'm gone?" she asked teasingly. Alan shrugged, grinning mischievously.

"Gordon got a new parcel, and Scott's returning after a month up in space. I'm sure I'll find something to do."

"Do I even want to know what the parcel is?"

"Probably not. I could tell you where it's from, but you've probably already guessed."

"The usual supplier?"

"Yes."

"Hasn't your father called them and asked them not to send their products to this island?"

"Scott did ask him to, but father seemed strangely reluctant."

"Maybe he's aware it's the best way for Gordon to vent."

"That, and the fact that Gordon's creative enough to conjure up a pretty impressive prank with household objects anyway." Tin-Tin chuckled.

"I guess." She pulled away and reached into her drawers, rummaging around.

"Excited?" asked Alan.

"Yes." Tin-Tin threw more things into her suitcase. "A girly shopping trip for a wedding dress, of course I'm excited!" Tin-Tin giggled as Alan grabbed her round the waist as she walked past on her way to her bedside table. He kissed her again.

"Alan, let go!" she said eventually, wriggling free. "You're being very clingy today."

"I'm not going to see you for four days!" replied Alan, grinning. "I'm gonna have to make up for lost time!"

Tin-Tin hit him with her pillow. "You can do that when I come back, alright?" She grabbed her favourite perfume and sprayed some at Alan. The blonde Tracy backed away, waving blindly. "In the mean time, you can film whatever Gordon's prank is for me, how's about that?"

Alan nodded, an evil grin plastering his face.

TB

Frank Mitchell was worried, and wasted no time in telling Anthony so.

"Look, Frank, it'll be _fine_," said Anthony, exasperated. "I promise I'll contact you if I need help. Now, will you please stop whining and go enjoy your date?"

Frank straightened his tie nervously. "If you insist. But keep full contact with John, you hear?"

Anthony nodded in reply, zipping up his dark jacket and walking out of the door.

In truth, Anthony reflected, Frank was probably right to be worried. After all, breaking into what in all likelihood was probably a base for a band of mercenaries without backup was definitely high on the list of Dangerous Things You Shouldn't Really Do but Will Anyway.

The night air felt incredibly still after the bustle and noise of the carnival earlier that day. Anthony kept close to the walls of the buildings lining the streets, trying to blend with the shadows. He walked quickly, his feet making small clicking sounds on the pavement. Occasionally, he trod over some paper streamers or a piece of litter.

He reached the alley he had gone to earlier, and switched on the tracker in his watch. A little red dot pulsed on the watch face, and he walked in its direction, getting closer and closer.

The dot suddenly moved away from him, and he looked up in horror. The hidden door had slid open, and a very fierce-looking man stepped out. He walked slowly toward him. Anthony should have had plenty of time to run, but, for some reason, he just couldn't. He stood, rooted to the spot, staring into those awful eyes. He couldn't look away. The eyes became all he could see, long after consciousness left him.

TB

**heh, no prizes for guessing who that is :P**

**funny, looking back through my previous story to double-check meyer's first name, i realised i'd changed another character's name halfway through the same story. ah, wells**

**anyways, a happy new year to everyone!**


	4. Chapter 3

**seriously, why do i bother making a plan in my head? i just change it almost beyond recognition anyway :P**

**anyways, here's the next chapter. it's a bit slow-moving, but please don't be put off!**

Ch. 3

Tin-Tin taxied the jet down the runway and into the Tracy Industries hangar. She undid the clasp on the safety belt and stretched. Beside her, Catrìona did the same, yawning widely. Tin-Tin turned to see Grandma and Maria involved in similar activities. Suddenly, Maria squeaked and put a hand to her stomach.

"You alright?" asked Tin-Tin, concerned.

"Fine. The baby kicked, that was all," smiled Maria. "It often does that."

"Maybe John's given you a footballer," chuckled Catrìona.

"It's just the Tracy gene," said Grandma sagely. "Jeff did that to me, all five of the boys did that to Lucille, and my husband's mother told me he was just the same. I think it's because they're all so fidgety."

"What about the girls?" asked Tin-Tin curiously.

"I don't know. There's been an abundance of Tracy boys lately, so I honestly couldn't say whether girls would be the same." Grandma shrugged. "That said," she went on, chuckling gently, "when John was born, everyone thought he _was_ a girl."

Maria's ears perked up almost visibly.

"How so?"

"Well, when Lucille was expecting John, a friend of mine was also expecting. To cover for every eventuality, I knitted three baby suits, one in pink, one in blue, and one in yellow.

"Now, my friend gave birth first, to twin boys, so I gave her the blue suit and the yellow one. Unfortunately, Lucille gave birth before I could knit some more, so John was stuck with the pink one for a few days before I could knit another one. Well, you all know how similar babies look in their first year. Lucille would push John in his buggy, and everyone would peer into it and say, "Oh, what a lovely baby girl."" The cockpit rang with the women's laughter. "Jeff seriously considered putting up a sign next to poor John's head saying, "It's a boy!""

Maria giggled delightedly. "That's why he hates pink, isn't it?" Grandma simply nodded.

Tin-Tin dried her eyes, and turned to look in the small mirror at the front of the cockpit to make sure her make-up hadn't smudged. Before she did, however, a figure hurrying towards the cockpit caught her eye.

"Who's that?" she asked, pointing. "He doesn't work for Tracy Industries, does he?"

"I didn't think the business had any branches out here, apart from this hangar," agreed Grandma, leaning over Tin-Tin's shoulder.

"Let's go find out," said Tin-Tin, extracting herself from the pilot's chair and making her way to the door.

TB

Frank stopped just beside the jet, watching as the four women descended it. One of them he knew was Tin-Tin, having met her briefly. Judging by the confused glance she threw at him, she didn't recognise him.

The elderly one had to be Jeff Tracy's mother. Frank admired the youthfulness with which she managed to descend the steep steps, despite her obvious age.

The other two, Frank didn't know, though he could guess. The Hispanic one, judging by the size of her stomach, had to be John's wife. Meaning that the red-head was Catrìona, Brains' girlfriend.

"Miss Kyrano?" he said, stepping forward once they'd reached the bottom.

"Yes?" Tin-Tin frowned slightly, clearly trying to put a name to the face. Then her eyes cleared. "Frank Mitchell?"

"Yes," he smiled, offering his hand. She shook it warmly.

"Sorry, it took a moment to register," she apologised. Turning to the others, she waved at each in turn. "This is Mrs Tracy, Jeff's mother, Maria, John's wife, and Catrìona MacLeod." Frank shook each of their hands in turn.

"Did Jeff ask you to meet us here?" asked Mrs Tracy.

"Er, no, ma'am, I don't work for Tracy Industries. I'm actually one of the five International Rescue agents spread out through Malaysia."

"Of course, there's someone in my father's old village, another in the very north, one on the east coast, and you and Anthony here in Kuala Lumpur."

"That's actually what I was going to talk to you about," said Frank with a grimace. "You see, Anthony's gone missing. I only found out this morning when I went in to work." As Tin-Tin opened his mouth to ask questions, he put a finger to his lips. "Might I suggest we return to my office? It's not far, and we will be guaranteed privacy there."

TB

Gordon yawned and covered his hand with his mouth, but too late; Jeff had seen.

"That's the fifth time in as many minutes, Gordon," he said. "What on earth have you been doing to make you so tired?"

"Oh, no-no-nooooooothing," replied Gordon, yawning again. "I just sat up reading quite late last night, that's all."

"You, reading?" scoffed Alan from his safe position beside his father's desk. Gordon glared at him.

"Yes, actually. _Treasure Island_. Good book." He yawned again, and Jeff rolled his eyes.

"Gordon, if you're this tired, I think I'll have to excuse you from all rescues today." Gordon sat bolt upright.

"What?" he squawked. "But... what if it's an underwater rescue?"

"Then I'm sure Alan could take care of Thunderbird Four, and you can rest here. I'm not sending out someone who's half asleep. Are you feeling alright?" Gordon's face had turned a funny colour at the prospect of Alan piloting his 'bird. Jeff knew that, and had to struggle not to burst out laughing.

"Father, I'm fine, just-" he yawned again- "don't let Alan pilot Four."

"And why not?" asked Alan, folding his arms and pouting.

Jeff was saved from having to intervene by an incoming call from Tin-Tin.

"Go ahead, Tin-Tin," he said loudly, pressing a button on his desk.

"_Mr Tracy, we've arrived in Kuala Lumpur and have secured the jet in the Tracy Industries hangar. We're now on our way to Frank Mitchell's office_."

"Frank Mitchell? Why are you going to his office?"

"Who's Frank Mitchell?" asked Alan, a slight tone of jealousy colouring his voice.

"One of our agents," said Jeff shortly.

"_Frank met us after landing. It turns out Anthony has gone missing._"

"Who's _Anthony_?" asked Alan slightly despairingly.

"Another agent," snapped Jeff. "Quiet please, Alan. Sorry, Tin-Tin, continue."

"_Frank won't tell us much at the moment, but says he will set up a tele-conference when we reach his office._"

"And when will that be?"

Tin-Tin spoke to someone off-screen.

"_About ten minutes from now, judging by the traffic. See you then_."

"F.A.B." Jeff turned from the monitor to face his sons.

"Alan, could you go and find the others, please? I saw Virgil painting outside ten minutes ago, he's probably still there. Scott's probably taking advantage of Grandma's absence and raiding the larder." Alan smirked, nodding, and ran off to find his siblings and friend.

Gordon watched as Jeff pressed another button to contact John. As he waited to make contact, he turned to Gordon.

"Gordon, could you move the table by the wall into the centre, please?" he asked as John's face appeared on the screen.

"Sure, if I have someone to help me shift it," the aquanaut reminded him lightly.

"Of course, sorry, Gordon," grimaced Jeff, remembering his son's temperamental back. "Won't be a moment, John," said Jeff, rising to help his son.

"_Sure, after all, it was just you calling me,_" muttered John.

"Sorry?" Jeff straightened, frowning at his son.

"_Sorry father, I've just got a bit of a headache, that's all. I didn't sleep too well last night._"

"Another one," muttered Jeff. "Alright, John, I'll let it pass," he said a bit louder. Speaking as he moved the table, he said, "We're going to have a conference in a few minutes. Tin-Tin just called to inform us she and the girls have arrived, and they're going to Frank Mitchell's office. It turns out Anthony's gone missing. Can you get a trace on him for me?"

"_Sure thing, father_."

TB

Maria stared out in wonder at the view through Frank's window. Even though she'd lived a long time in New York, she was still amazed at the city of Kuala Lumpur. It was so different.

"Maria, we're ready to go," called Tin-Tin. Maria nodded and joined the others at the curved table, which faced the huge television screen on the wall beside the door. Frank pressed a button, and the screen blinked into life.

Maria's heart leapt at the sight of John, but she frowned slightly at the bags under her husband's eyes. She made a mental note to check on him later.

The other half of the screen showed the Tracy living room. A table had been set up in the middle of the room, and the four remaining Tracy boys, Jeff and Brains sat around it. Kyrano hovered in the background. Three smaller boxes at the top of the screen held three distinctly Malaysian faces- the other three agents.

"_We have contact_," said John, messing with various dials on the console on Thunderbird Five. "_Tracy Island, do you hear me?_"

"_F.A.B._"

"_Kuala Lumpur, do you hear me?_"

"F.A.B."

"_Kuala Terengganu, do you hear me?_"

"_F.A.B._"

"_Alor Setar?_"

"_F.A.B._"

"_And Tioman?_"

"_F.A.B._"

John nodded, pleased. "_All areas responding, father. Go ahead._"

Jeff cleared his throat. "_Thanks, John. Alright, Frank, let's hear your report._"

Frank nodded. "Yesterday, Anthony caught sight of two suspects, two of the mercenaries from the incident in New York last year. He followed them, until he came to an empty alley. Knowing that they couldn't have simply vanished, he called John, who confirmed for him that there was a hidden entrance. Anthony put a tracer on it, and planned to return that night."

"_Do you confirm this, John?_"

"_Yes father._"

"Last night," Frank went on, "Anthony returned to the alley alone. I had offered to go with him, but he insisted that I went to a prior engagement of mine. I told him to call if he had any problems, but, since he never did, I assumed all was well. It was only when I arrived at work this morning that I realised he was missing."

There was silence for a moment, as everyone thought through everything. On the screen, Maria saw that her father-in-law was deep in thought, his head bowed. Finally, he raised it up.

"_John, did you manage to get a trace on Anthony?_" On the other screen, Maria saw her husband grimace, the pixels slightly distorting the image.

"_I'm afraid not. I know where the building is, but there's no sign of his watch transmitter. There aren't even any life signs in the building anymore._"

"Did you check the rest of the city?" asked Tin-Tin, leaning forward in her chair slightly.

"_The sc-scanners on, ah, Thunderbird F-five, um, automatically check, ah, everywhere f-f-for a s-signal_," explained Brains.

"_Exactly,_" continued John. "_Which either means the battery's dead-_"

"_H-h-highly unlikely,_" interjected Brains.

"_-or the watch has been damaged in some way._" John waited for the significance of this statement to hit.

"So... he could have been attacked, and the watch was damaged in that way?" asked Frank, turning pale. He slumped back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. "Oh, God! I need to find him!"

"_Calm down, Frank. It's just as possible that he's somewhere out of reach of Thunderbird Five's scanners, and hasn't been injured in any way,_" said Jeff, his deep voice calming everyone. "_However, I do agree that we need to find Anthony. If she's willing, I'll send Lady Penelope over to help. Our other Malaysian agents can keep their ears out for any news._" He rubbed his hand over his face. "_I suppose it's fruitless asking you lot to return to Tracy Island?_" he asked the four women.

"Too right," replied Tin-Tin, smirking.

**when my mum was expecting me, her sister was also pregnant at the same time. everyone expected the babies to be boys, because both their fathers were one of four boys. in preparation, my gran knitted three baby suits: one pink, one lemon and one turquoise, or so she said. emma, my cousin, was born first, and got the pink suit. for some reason, this made everyone more convinced that i'd be a boy. so, they were a bit surprised when i turned out to be a girl. of course, emma had got the pink suit, so i was stuck with turquoise and lemon.**

**when mum took me out in the pram, everyone would look inside, see a baby with a blue bonnet, and say, "oh, what a lovely wee boy!" this went on 'till my gran knitted me a pink bonnet. just thought i'd chuck it into the chapter :D**


	5. Chapter 4

**oops, that took a while. my sincerest apologies. i've just had so much happening needing sorted. but now, hopefully, normal service may resume!**

**this chapter may seem a bit slow moving, but that's kinda because, again, my fingers are getting ahead of my brain -ahem- besides, i had to decide what tin-tin's dress would look like! :D**

Ch. 4

The alarm clock beeped noisily.

John rolled over and flapped his hand in the general direction of the noise. When it stopped, he got groggily to his feet and stumbled towards Thunderbird Five's tiny bathroom. He turned on the water.

Twenty minutes later, he was out of the bathroom, in uniform, but still very tired. Deciding coffee would make him feel more human, he trudged over to the kitchen.

An urgent beeping stopped him short, and he hurried over to the console, hoping his father wouldn't notice the dark circles under his eyes.

Hitting the receive button, John was shocked to see the look of distress on his father's face.

"_John!_" Jeff shouted as soon as the connection was made. "_John, it's Maria!_"

John felt an icy dread take hold of him.

"What? What's happened? Father?"

Jeff seemed to take a moment to gather himself.

"_John, she... she's had a miscarriage._"

John felt the floor disappear from under his feet, even as sirens rang all around him...

... and he hit his head off the bedside table.

Disorientated, the space monitor sat up. He was tangled up in his sheets, on the floor beside his bed. His alarm clock was blaring at him, in case he was still asleep. He switched it off and gingerly felt his forehead where it had made contact with the bedside table. The skin didn't seem to be broken, but he was sure he'd have a lovely bruise very shortly. He stumbled towards the kitchen for an ice pack.

Applying it to his throbbing head, he sighed. _Maria is _fine, he told himself firmly. _The baby is fine. If you keep this up, you'll end up going stir-crazy, and goodness knows what Dad'll say to that. Probably relieve me of duty for several months... _after_ the baby's been born._

Once his head stopped feeling like it was growing an egg-sized lump, he made his way to the bathroom. He stripped, stepped into the shower and turned on the water.

With a shock, he yelped and fell backwards out of the shower; the water was freezing! He grabbed a towel, turned off the shower and mopped up the water spilt all over the floor. Glaring at the offending object, he fiddled with the controls until the water was decently warm. Having been busy trying out Five's new bath, John hadn't taken a shower until that morning. This meant that the last person to use the shower must have been Scott.

_Why on earth did Scott have the water so cold?_ he wondered. An idea popped into his mind, and he vowed to check the contents of the garbage disposal once he was done.

Half an hour later, clad in uniform and full of breakfast, John started Thunderbird Five's morning diagnostics program while he had a peek in the garbage disposal, which still wasn't quite full.

As he thought, he caught sight of a glimmer of several beer bottles.

The rules were quite clear: no alcohol on Thunderbird Five, and very little when on duty. Scott hadn't had that much in a long time. His hangover must have been pretty nasty, hence the cold shower in an attempt to revive himself a little.

Slamming the lid of the garbage disposal shut, John mused on what to do about it. He was, after all, the principal operator of Thunderbird Five, and therefore all happenings aboard his craft were his concern, even when he was planet side. Despite Scott's superiority in age and on the field, he could not escape John's wrath as far as Thunderbird Five was concerned. John grinned evilly. Contemplating how to take action was going to serve as a very welcome distraction.

A beeping from the console alerted him out of his thoughts, and for a moment his pulse raced, before he realised that it wasn't the urgent sound of his nightmares.

"Go ahead, father," he said, flicking the switch.

"_Morning John... what did you do to your head?_" John groaned inwardly. He'd been unable to hide the bruise with his hair, since it simply would not lie that way. He grimaced.

"I... fell out of bed... father..." he mumbled awkwardly. He sat in the chair in front of the console, wincing a little; his fall out of the shower had resulted in a bruised behind. Jeff raised an eyebrow.

"_Well... so long as you're alright... I was just calling to see how things were, really. Did you get a better night's sleep this time?_"

John rubbed the back of his neck, unsure whether or not to admit to having his nightmare. Now, speaking to his father so calmly, it seemed foolish. In the end, he decided honesty was, in this instance, _not_ the best policy.

"It was better last night, yeah. I just got so tangled in my sheets that I couldn't get out of bed properly, that's all." Jeff didn't seem entirely convinced, but he let it drop.

"_Fine. I take it you have nothing in particular to report?_" John shook his head. "_I didn't think so. By the way, I want you to keep contact with the girls in Malaysia. Just call in every now and then to see what they're up to, and get them to call you if they make any breakthroughs. I think Catrìona's helping Mitchell have a look at the alley where Anthony was going. I told the rest to go and do their shopping, get it out of the way._"

"I think you'll find that'll take most of the day," chuckled John. He consulted the various clocks lined up on the hull wall, each representing a different time zone. "They'll be having their lunch soon. I'll call Maria and see how things are going in a few minutes." He hesitated, wondering whether to report Scott's collection of beer bottles, then decided against it. Jeff, however, saw it.

"_What is it?_"

"I... er... was just wondering... if Gordon's played his prank yet?" Jeff sighed; it sounded like static through the speakers.

"_Not yet. It's actually the waiting that's getting to me. There's only so much imagining as to what punishment to give him I can do without going stir-crazy. Talking of stir-crazy, how're you doing up there?_"

John smiled ruefully. "Alright. The skies are a bit boring at the moment, though. Funny, I never thought I'd actually get irritated being stuck here on Five." He shrugged. "Other than that, I'm fine. Do you know, Virgil's been trying his hand at creative writing? He's sent me up some of his stuff, and it's not half bad." Jeff looked intrigued at this.

"_What's he been writing about?_"

John opened up the document on the console computer, scrolling through it. "It's really just a collection of short stories and a novel idea at the moment, but it might interest you to know that some of the short stories bear a striking resemblance to certain incidents in our childhood..."

"_Hmm, I bet your brothers won't be too thrilled. What do _you_ think?_"

"I think, since Virge's after constructive criticism, he's refrained from mentioning me too much. Most of them are Gordon's pranks, but there's one or two Scott crackers in there."

"_Such as?_"

"Remember that time he thought the family should have a plane rather than a car?"

On screen, Jeff rubbed his temples, nodding and chuckling softly to himself. "_Oh, yes..._" The pair grinned at each other knowingly for a moment.

"_How old was he then, about... six?_" John nodded.

"I seem to remember you and Mom having fun trying to explain that one to the insurance company."

Jeff merely nodded. "_What else has he been writing about? What's his novel idea?_"

"He's done a couple of poems, but I'm not even going to bother going there. The short stories that _aren't_ embroidered versions of our childhood are quite a mixture of things. The novel's this mystery one. He's only sent me the first chapter."

"_That must be quite frustrating_."

"Tell me about it." A beeping sound drew John's attention away. "Hang on, father, I'm getting a call." John turned to another screen and pressed a button. Catrìona's face appeared.

"_John, we went to the alley that Anthony was headed to. We found this._" She held up a black, crumpled mess. "_His watch has been smashed to pieces. How many are in the building right now?_" John called the scanning programme, at the same time putting his father on conference so that he too could talk to Catrìona.

"_Hi, Mr Tracy_." Jeff returned the greeting.

"_So, what do the scans show, son?_"

"The school's full, and there's no one in the other building. They must have moved on."

"_Right, here's what we do_," said Jeff. "_Catrìona, see if you can get a look inside. Meanwhile, I'll put the boys on standby here in case they're needed._" Everyone nodded, and signed off.

TB

"Oh, now _that_ is gorgeous."

"You said that about the last one!" complained Tin-Tin. "And the one before that. And the one before that. And the-"

"I'm sorry, but they all look fabulous on you. Maybe if you were just a bit plainer and didn't have such good skin..." Tin-Tin blushed.

They were in a small wedding shop. Maria and Grandma sat outside the changing rooms, watching as Tin-Tin paraded in each of the dresses that caught her fancy. Unfortunately, the same dresses caught their fancy so much that they were having a tough time choosing. Tin-Tin tugged at the pale blue silk unhappily.

"I really don't know!" she exclaimed, looking at the dresses lined up on the rail. Some were simple wraps, like those her father wore, but in pale coloured silks. Some had delicately embroidered flowers, and one even had fish. Others were more traditional dresses, some more contemporary.

Maria took pity on her.

"Well, is there any you definitely don't want."

Tin-Tin mused for a moment. "This one... this one... and these." She picked them up and handed them to Grandma, who returned them.

"Okay, so we're just left with a much more modest six dresses to choose from," said Maria seriously. "Go try them on again, honey, and we'll see." Tin-Tin did as she was told. Grandma shook her head.

"You're a natural at this, Maria." The Spaniard shrugged.

"I'm the middle child of several. I've had to help organise a lot of weddings. Trust me; Tin-Tin's not that indecisive compared to some of the women I've had to help."

Tin-Tin did her parade again, and eventually she decided on a traditional wedding dress, white, but with pale lilac flowers across the top of the strapless bodice.

"You'd better hope your wedding present from Jeff matches it," said Grandma as they left the shop with their purchases.

Tin-Tin paled. "I hadn't thought of that! Maybe I should go for a plain one!" Maria grabbed her arm sternly and led her to the waiting cab.

"Don't you dare. That dress looks fantastic on you, and it won't matter too much if they don't match." Tin-Tin nodded and allowed herself to be forced into the back of the cab. Buying her wedding dress had really brought it home to her. She was getting married! But her vision of married life didn't seem too different from before. After all, she would still be living on Tracy Island, Alan would still be a Thunderbird... it wouldn't be all that different.

TB

Anthony felt his head throbbing, but he didn't open his eyes. Not just yet. He listened carefully, trying to hear past the blood rushing through his ears, and his own breathing. He heard more breathing, and the odd rustle, of dry clothes on a dry, rough surface. Finally, he cracked his eyes open slowly, giving them time to adjust to the soft light.

A tired, frightened face stared back at him. On seeing he was awake, the face's arms suddenly helped him up. As Anthony started to cough, the arms' hands reached for a small bottle of water and helped him to drink. After a moment, Anthony's chest stopped hurting, and he examined his helper.

Longish, matted dark hair framed a dirty, careworn face covered in rough stubble. Two, scared grey eyes stared out at him.

"Are you alright?" the face asked. He had one of those accents that was hard to place. Anthony nodded, gazing around at the room they were in. It was small, but fortunately dry, reasonably warm, and lit with soft lights. Clearly, their captors didn't want them to be harmed. There were two mattresses, and a tray with water bottles and plates of food.

"Who are you?" he asked the man. The man bowed his head slightly.

"I'm Harold Meyer, of Meyer Electronics. I've been a captive here for almost a year. Who are you?"


	6. Chapter 5

**things are starting to move a bit now, everyone! :D**

Ch. 5

Anthony had recovered enough to stand up and wander around the small cell. He was trying to find a weakness, any weakness. Meyer called him from where he remained sat on the floor.

"There's no point, you know," he said. "I've been in this cell for the best part of a year. Don't you think I've already tried getting out? The vent system's welded shut, the light fitting's just too high to reach, and the door is heavily guarded 24-7. You're not getting out of here without their permission, Anthony."

Anthony sighed and flopped back down next to his new cell-mate. Meyer ran a hand through his long hair and sighed.

"Anyway, you haven't told me anything about yourself, though you seem to know a lot about me. How did you end up here? And don't tell me it was a case of "being in the wrong place at the wrong time," I know that's utter bull-shit." Meyer was starting to get angry. Anthony raised his hands in surrender.

"Alright, but you're sworn to secrecy, alright?" Meyer nodded, but his face clearly said, _who the hell am I going to tell?_ Clearly, the man had given up hope of being rescued.

"I'm one of the Malaysian agents for International Rescue, and yesterday-" Anthony paused. "Well, a couple of days ago, at least, I saw two suspects who fitted the description of two of the mercenaries charged with kidnapping you last year. I followed them to what is believed to be their headquarters, and returned later that evening. Unfortunately, I was knocked out and woke up here."

Meyer was silent for a moment.

"International Rescue's out looking for me?"

"Every law enforcement agency is out looking for you," corrected Anthony. "International Rescue doesn't involve itself with police work as such, but we have made it our interest to assist in finding you in any way possible."

"Why?"

"A couple of our operatives insisted."

"That doesn't answer my question."

Anthony bit his lip, unsure of how much he should divulge. He couldn't really reveal that John, Brains and Catrìona were members of International Rescue, could he?

"Was it because of Hackenbacker?"

Anthony jumped. He looked at Meyer questioningly.

"These people kept asking me for information about International Rescue," the scientist explained. "They were still under the impression that I was Hackenbacker at that point. Once they realised I wasn't, they got really mean. I honestly thought I was going to die." Meyer shuddered. "Instead, they shut me in here, once they'd got information about my company. I'm not sure what they've been doing."

"They've been stealing money from your company. Not enough to bankrupt it, but enough to get the acting manager worried." Meyer leaned forward and put his head in his hands. Anthony, not sure what to do, simply clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll get out. We have people working for us." Meyer wasn't convinced.

TB

Scott was at his wits' end. He knew that Gordon was concocting something, but he really didn't know what. Several times, he'd caught sight of his red-headed sibling grinning evilly at him. Virgil had said Gordon was simply enjoying Scott's growing paranoia.

"Just ignore it, Scott," the musician had said in between passages of his favourite concerto. "It won't make it go away, but it sure does help."

Unfortunately, mused Scott, he just didn't have the distractions that Virgil had. If John had been on Earth, he would have simply lost himself in a book. Alan would most likely be helping Gordon. And, even if he wasn't, he had his alligator to keep him occupied. But Scott didn't read much, couldn't play or paint to save his life, and didn't have any weird and wonderful pets to keep himself occupied. In fact, on Thunderbird Five, his only saving grace had been alcohol, but the hangover the next day had not been worth it.

Scott wandered to his father's study with the intention of seeing whether Jeff wanted help with some reports or something. Jeff was glad to have the assistance, and the two settled down with the hideously complicated financial reports. Before long, however, an angry roar reached their ears.

"That's Virgil," said Jeff calmly. He sighed, set down his pen and left his office in the direction of the sitting room, Scot following behind. What they saw had the pair of them rolling on the floor with laughter.

Virgil appeared to be chasing his beloved piano around the sitting room.

His face was red with exertion and fury, as he reached out to grab the offending instrument. However, it scooted away just in time, leaving Virgil's hands clasping around nothing but air. Scott clutched his ribs, tears streaming down his face. Behind his father's desk, he saw Alan operating a camera, tears also streaming down his cheeks.

Jeff was the first to pull himself together.

"Virgil, you stay there, and I'll come over on this side." Soon they had the piano cornered. Jeff knelt down and examined the feet. Someone had replaced the wheels, and there was a small remote control receiver on each leg. Scott whistled.

"That was a good one, Virge, admit it." Virgil, panting slightly, nodded, but he still looked annoyed.

"Anyone fancy battered fish tonight?"

A red-headed blur leaped out from behind a curtain and ran down the steps towards the pool. Virgil chased after it, leaving the three remaining Tracys to collapse again in fits of laughter.

TB

Catrìona tip-toed through the old taxi office. It still had calendars, lists of cars, walkie-talkies and various other things strewn about it, as if the people who worked there had just popped out for a quick break. In fact, she would have believed that, but for the fact that there was a pretty thick layer of dust over everything.

She looked through every door she could open, making sure she left no fingerprints with her gloves. There was a small bathroom, a kitchen, and a couple of bedrooms. However, when she reached the lounge, she struggled to hold back a gasp.

Despite the fact that it was covered with the same dusty layer of the other rooms, she could make out small bullet holes. There were cracks in the mirror, picture frames and the windows. The sofas leaked stuffing. Most disturbing, however, were the blood stains on the carpet and furniture. She knelt down to examine them. They were rusty brown, completely dried into the fabric. Catrìona estimated that they'd been there a long time.

She pulled out a small digital camera and took a photo of the room. Then she left. Quickly.

TB

**personally, i would find it hilarious if my instrument started wandering around the room. then again, i'd probably get hacked off with the culprit for messing around with my instrument. musicians do get very protective over their "babies"**


	7. Chapter 6

**sorry this took so long! what with prelims (only three, so there's no excuse), learing gaelic from scratch, choir trips to toilet awards (i kid you not. no toilet puns, please), preparation for a gaelic roadshow around primary schools in preparation for the national m****òd and** **just general laziness, this chapter is incredibly late. oops...**

Ch. 6

Hearing the loud, angry minor chords from the living room, Alan decided that showing his face in there would not be a wise move at that moment in time. Virgil was still fuming about Gordon's prank, but Alan suspected there was some guilt mingled in there. Gordon had run down the steps to the swimming pool in an attempt to escape Virgil's wrath. Unfortunately, he'd slipped on the last step and put his back out. Despite Gordon's putting a brave face on the whole thing, he'd clearly needed to go and lie down.

Scott, in an attempt to cheer Virgil up, had pointed out that it was a good thing that Gordon had tripped on the very bottom, rather than somewhere further up, but, for some reason, this only served to upset Virgil even more.

Meanwhile, Alan felt that hiding was the safest option for now. Even though he hadn't been involved in the whole fiasco, his presence with the video camera had annoyed Virgil even more. Fearing for his neck, Alan had taken refuge in his bedroom for a couple of hours.

Now, however, he was bored. Re-watching old finals of the Grand Prix can only amuse you for so long, and Alan was sick of listening to the commentator, who clearly didn't know what he was talking about. He'd tried playing with his alligator for a bit, but Laika had been in a bad mood. No, who he really needed right then was Tin-Tin.

However, contacting her meant going into the living room. Alan listened carefully again to Virgil's playing through the door. He'd dropped in volume somewhat, and had stopped playing marches. Weighing up his options, Alan decided he'd be safe to go in.

Alan peered round the door. Virgil had his back to him, playing something moody by Beethoven. Alan couldn't remember whether that was a good thing or not.

Jeff caught sight of him and chuckled softly. Fortunately, Virgil was too wrapped up in his music to notice. Alan walked quietly over to his father's desk.

"About time," murmured Jeff, glancing over at his middle son. "I appreciate Virgil's playing as much as the next person, but it does get a little heavy when he's in a bad mood. He seems to be lightening it up now, though." Jeff smiled, watching Virgil for a moment. Then he looked up at Alan. "What can I do for you, son?"

"I want to speak to Tin-Tin, father."

"Missing her already?" Alan simply nodded. Nodding knowingly, Jeff punched up the code for Tin-Tin's watch, just as John called.

Suddenly business, Jeff cancelled the call to Tin-Tin.

"Go ahead, John."

"_Tin-Tin's just called in, father. She wants to have a word._"

"That's a coincidence," replied Jeff. "Put her through." Over at the piano, Virgil stopped playing and joined them at Jeff's desk.

Alan smiled warmly as he saw his fiancée's face on the monitor. Behind her, the other three women and Mitchell peered over her shoulder.

"_Mr Tracy, Catrìona has finished her examination of the taxi office. I'm passing you over to her._" Catrìona's face replaced Tin-Tin's, and Jeff pressed a button on his desk, summoning Scott and Brains.

"_As you know, we found the remains of Anthony's watch when we went into the alley. I then went into the taxi office. It looked completely normal, except for one room._" Catrìona shuddered, clearly not enjoying the memory. "_There were bullet holes and bloodstains all over the place. I'm sending you a photo_."

Jeff examined the file. It looked pretty grim.

"So, you didn't find any unusual rooms?" he asked just as Scott and Brains walked in, followed by a rather strained looking Gordon. Jeff turned his head sharply.

"Gordon, take it easy. I think you'd better get back to bed." It was a testament to how much Gordon's back must have been hurting him that Gordon simply nodded and retreated. Virgil's face was dark. Turning back to Catrìona, Jeff continued.

"Nothing to suggest that Anthony is being held there?"

"_No. But we found his watch in the alley. It was broken, but we believe we'll still be able to access its memory._"

Jeff turned to Brains for his opinion.

"The, ah, w-w-watch's internal w-workings are, um, extremely r-robust. I d-d-don't think you'll, ah, experience any p-problems." Catrìona nodded and plugged what was left of the watch into her computer. After a moment, her tense face relaxed into a smile.

"_Got it. I'm putting it up on screen now_."

Everyone watched with baited breath. There were four sections: one that showed them every video recording made, one which displayed the sound files from transmissions, one which displayed Anthony's location at any given time- provided he was wearing the watch- and another which displayed vitals such as heart rate, respiration and blood pressure.

"P-p-play back from, ah, when Anthony l-left, um, for the alley," instructed Brains, watching the screen intently. Catrìona set the recording accordingly.

On screen, they watched Anthony's vitals and location. Suddenly, the camera and sound recorder were activated as Anthony switched on the tracker.

"His heart and respiratory rates are increasing," noted Virgil.

"_I think that's normal, given how much adrenaline you guys pump out when you're on a mission_," replied John.

On the screen, they could see part of Anthony's face, and some of the alley. On the locator, they watched him walk slowly forward. Suddenly, he stopped. His hand dropped, allowing them the view of a Malaysian man, dressed completely in black. His cruel eyes started to glow.

Brains reeled away from the screen, startling Scott, who had been standing right beside him. In Kuala Lumpur, Tin-Tin did the same thing, her eyes wide and fearful.

Jeff, just as surprised as the others, told Catrìona to stop playing the recording.

"What's the matter?"

Tin-Tin found her voice first.

"_Mr Tracy, we recognise that man._"

"G-g-gordon may, ah, remember him, um, t-t-too," added Brains breathlessly. Jeff frowned, reluctant to disturb his water-loving son. Finally, he nodded and pressed the button to summon him.

"Wait a sec... I've seen him somewhere before!" exclaimed Scott, squinting at the frozen image. "Remember the saboteur on the Zero-X? That's him, I'm sure it is!"

"_And we saw him that time our caravan was attacked in the desert_," added Tin-Tin as Gordon walked in.

"What is it?" Jeff merely pointed at the screen. Gordon stared at it for a moment.

"That's the guy with the submarine!" Jeff nodded grimly.

"Right, things have just got a lot nastier," he said. The room resounded with the understatement.

TB

John paced about Thunderbird Five frantically, running his hands through his hair. If the mysterious attacker from the desert was involved, the situation was definitely a lot more dangerous than anyone had first thought. And it had been pretty bad to begin with.

His father had come up with an action plan. Catrìona would remain in Kuala Lumpur to help Mitchell find Anthony. Meanwhile, International Rescue would be on standby. And the rest of the girls were to return to Tracy Island.

Naturally, this was where things had gone wrong.

Tin-Tin had protested loudly, saying that she was perfectly capable of helping Mitchell and Catrìona. Jeff had argued, reminding her that she had to fly Grandma and Maria back, since neither of them could pilot the plane themselves. At this point, Maria had decided to get involved.

"I want to help to!" John remembered the sinking feeling his heart had felt upon hearing those words. Not willing to get into a domestic, he'd listened helplessly as his father had argued.

"Your baby is due any time now, Maria! I will not have you endanger yourself in this way. Catrìona is perfectly capable of looking after herself, but you are a pregnant woman." Maria's eyes had grown cold at this.

"There are ways of helping without getting hurt," she'd said, and turned her back on him. Grandma, surprisingly, had agreed with her.

"Normally I would agree with you, Jeff," she had begun, "but I don't think we're in nearly as much danger as you think. Besides, if Tin-Tin wants to help, we have no right to stop her." And that had been that.

John kicked at the chair by the console as he stormed past. Behind him, the babble of voices was starting to drive him mad. He stopped and muted them. Having stopped his pacing, he found he had run out of steam, and flopped into the chair, his face in his hands.

A beeping startled him. He flicked the switch.

"Go ahead."

"_John?_"

"Maria!"

"_How're you doing?_"

John sighed. "I'd be a lot happier if I knew you were safe."

"_John, I've had this argument with your father already. I want to help._" On screen, her eyes softened at the look on her husband's face. "_You look awful,_" she said.

John snorted. "Thanks. I just haven't been sleeping as well as I'd hoped." Maria grimaced in sympathy, then frowned as she guessed the reason why.

"_John, you have to stop worrying about me! I can look after myself._"

"You're just making me feel redundant now," grumbled John good-naturedly.

"_Glad I could be of service_," replied Maria smoothly. John smiled a little, enjoying the conversation.

"Maybe being up here will make me feel useful, for a change."

"_You are useful, honey. And you'll be even more useful once I've trained you up properly_."

John opened his mouth to protest, when his attention was caught by an urgent beeping from the console. "Hang on." flicking a switch, he cleared his throat.

"This is International Rescue, receiving your call."

* * *

**we have a long weekend coming up, so hopefully i'll get something done then. until then, sorry for any inconvenient delays**


	8. Chapter 7

**-looks sheepish- ahem, yes... sincerest apologies.**

**i suffered from extreme writer's block with regards to this. this chapter has been sitting waiting to be completed for several months. in some ways, though, i suspect leaving it for that time is one of the best things i could have done. at least now i have fresh ideas for what to do with it.**

**i'd recommend reading through previous chapters to remind yourself how it goes before reading this one. thank you for your patience**

Ch. 7

Despite its dangerousness, this particular emergency was quite simple. Scott sighed a little as he touched down in the danger zone; he wasn't looking to a long, hard slog fighting fires. The problem was, the fires were too much for local services to handle, but they would be a cinch for International Rescue. Even so, it would take time and energy. Since it had been evening when he left base, Scott was pretty sure it'd be at least five in the morning by the time he got back. His father of course, would be hyped up on coffee the entire time, but Scott? He sighed. He'd be lucky to reach his bed without collapsing in a heap on the floor. Perhaps, he mused, he'd ask his father for permission to catch a little sleep before attempting to fly back.

Now, however, Scott felt the adrenaline pumping through him as he opened the hatch and climbed out of his 'bird. The local fire chief was there to meet him.

"I'm Bob Farmer," he said, offering his hand. Scott shook it warmly.

"What details do you have for me?"

Bob led him over to a hastily assembled command centre and pointed at a map laid out on the table. Small coloured counters were laid upon it, and a red line had been drawn around the centre. Looking up at the surrounding area, Scott realised that the line was where the fire had reached so far, and the counters were where various teams were posted.

"We've managed to keep the fire at bay in most of these areas by soaking the ground roundabout, but the heat is fantastic." Scott nodded; he could feel it burning his neck even from where he was. "The water is evaporating very quickly. And in these areas, it's having no effect whatsoever. There's a flour mill not too far from here." Bob's eyes were wide and serious. "If we don't stop the fire before it reaches the mill, we'll have a lot more to worry about."

TB

John was kept dashing from screen to screen, relaying instructions and information. When the call had come in, he'd immediately called Tracy Island at the same time. All this dashing around flicking switches and running from screen to screen! He was going to have to negotiate a few changes with Brains.

Another screen flickered, and he groaned, jogging back over to it. Tin-Tin smiled up at him.

"_Just to let you know, John, that we're about to try and get into that hidden door_."

"F.A.B. Are you all going?"

"_Catrìona, Mitchell and myself are going to try to gain access. Grandma is going to remain in Mitchell's office, and Maria is going to keep an eye on our progress, as well as keep lookout._" John nodded.

"Understood. Let me know if you need anything, but don't get too demanding; the guys have just gone out on a rescue." Tin-Tin nodded, and disconnected.

TB

Maria peered around the corner of the alley. There was no one in sight. She nodded to the others.

"The coast's clear. Good luck," she said. The others nodded and did a final check on their equipment to make sure it was functioning. Torches, first aid kits, pistols, scanners, walkie-talkies and various other useful items hung from their belts. Mitchell stepped forward and placed a line of explosives along an imaginary line. They retreated to a safe distance and detonated.

As soon as the dust cleared and their ears stopped ringing, Catrìona stepped forward and pushed at the now visible door. It moved without much protest. She nodded and beckoned to Tin-Tin and Mitchell.

"We'll need to hurry, I doubt anyone could ignore that. See you in a bit, Maria," she said with a grim smile. Maria nodded and tapped at her headphones, to show that she would be listening. As the others disappeared inside, she started to roll the police tape across the entrance to the alley.

TB

Tin-Tin was severely unnerved. She knew that there was no way anyone could _not_ have heard the explosion, yet no one came running. They continued down the brightly-lit corridor.

"This is very different from the taxi office," observed Catrìona. "It's much cleaner, more clinical." They passed several doors, but none opened. Mitchell examined the signal on his scanner.

"I'm not getting anything. I think our signal's being jammed," he sighed.

"That is correct."

Tin-Tin's shoulders sagged. She knew it was too good to be true. She'd also recognised the voice. Turning round, she saw a large, cruel-looking man grinning evilly at her. Even though he was completely shaven, she somehow knew this was the same man that had attacked her in the desert. She averted her eyes.

"Very clever," he chuckled, clearly delighted. "Look away and you'll be fine. You've learned, Tin-Tin."

Tin-Tin glanced up, briefly, in surprise, before common sense took over again.

"You know my name?"

"I know the identity of every inhabitant of Tracy Island," replied the man.

"How?" asked Catrìona, stepping forward.

"I have my sources," he replied with a nasty grin.

TB

Anthony looked up as the cell door opened, and his heart sank.

"Mitch! What are you doing here?"

"Being captured," replied the man glumly. He looked at Anthony's companion. "I see you found Meyer."

A young woman with red hair turned her head sharply at this. "What? Meyer?" Her eyes fell on the imprisoned scientist, and she frowned. "If I hadn't been sent here to rescue you..."

"You're rescuing me?" asked Meyer, pretending to be surprised. "Interesting interpretation of the word."

"Oh, shut up," she snapped in response. Anthony watched in confusion as the woman slumped down in the corner furthest away from Meyer. The other woman, a young Malaysian, sat next to her. She looked familiar.

"Tony, this is Tin-Tin Kyrano," said Mitch, "and this is Catrìona MacLeod, formerly of Jodrell Bank."

Anthony nodded, realisation dawning. Brains and John had met Catrìona at the ill-fated conference last year. No wonder she wasn't too pleased to see Meyer. In all actual honesty, the days he'd spent in the cell with the man had done nothing to endear him.

TB

It was a very tired Scott who leaned against the wall of his shower cubicle, face turned up towards the warm water pelting him. He closed his eyes blissfully, then inclined his head and opened them again. The water draining away beneath his feet was a murky grey. He sighed and reached for the shower gel.

A good hour later, he wandered into the kitchen. The shower had woken him up a little, and now he was ravenous. Kyrano greeted him with a welcome mug of strong coffee and a large slice of cake that Grandma had baked before she left. Scott squinted at Kyrano suspiciously.

"Where did you get this?"

"I have been sworn to secrecy," the manservant replied simply, going about his duties. Scott shrugged, bemused, and went into the living room.

It was empty. His father had gone to get some sleep, Virgil had probably fallen asleep standing up, and Alan had mentioned going in to see Gordon before going to bed. Scott stretched out on the sofa, munching away at his cake. Before he'd eaten more than a few bites, however, John's portrait flashed. With a groan, Scott pressed every necessary button he could think of, summoning his father and brothers, and answering John's call.

The space monitor's face was paler than usual, and he seemed to be on the verge of hysteria.

"_Scott! Grandma just called in. She says the others have been gone as long as you've been at the rescue, and still nothing! And she can't get a hold of any of them, not even Maria!"_

Within minutes, everyone was in their respective positions. Scott was racing towards Kuala Lumpur in Thunderbird One, Virgil and Alan a few minutes behind in Thunderbird Two. Jeff was at his desk with a very large pot of coffee, and Gordon, who had recovered sufficiently by this time to be a bit more useful, was dragging out every map of Kuala Lumpur he could find.


End file.
